CHAPTER XV.
CONVALESCENCE.
Red Cedar recovered but slowly in spite of the constant attention shownhim by Father Seraphin, Ellen, and the hunter's mother. The moral shockthe bandit had received on finding himself face to face with themissionary had been too powerful not to have a serious effect on hisconstitution. Still, the squatter had not relapsed since the day when,on returning to life, he had humbly bowed before the man of God. Whetherit was true repentance, or a part he played, he had persevered on thispath, to the edification of the missionary and the two women, who neverceased to thank Heaven from their hearts for this change.
So soon as he could rise and take a few steps in the cavern, FatherSeraphin, who constantly feared Valentine's arrival, asked him what hisintentions were for the future, and what mode of life he proposedadopting.
"Father," the squatter answered, "henceforth I belong to you: whateveryou counsel me, I will do; still, I would remind you that I am a speciesof savage, whose whole life has been spent in the desert. Of what useshould I be in a town among people whose habits or characters I shouldnot understand?"
"That is true," the priest said; "and then, without resources as youare, old and ignorant of any other labour than that of a wood ranger, youwould only lead a miserable existence."
"That would prove no obstacle, father, were it an expiation for me; butI have too deeply offended ever to return among them; I must live anddie in the desert, striving to requite, by an old age exempt from blame,the faults and crimes of a youth which I hold in horror."
"I approve your design, for it is good; grant me a few days forreflection, and I will find you the means to live as you propose."
The conversation broke off here, and a month elapsed ere the missionarymade any further allusion to it. The squatter had always shown Ellen acertain coarse and rough friendship, perfectly harmonising with thecoarseness and brutality of his character; but since he had been able toappreciate the girl's utter devotion, and the self-denial she haddisplayed for his sake, a species of revolution had taken place in him;a new feeling was awakened in his heart, and he began loving thischarming creature with all the strength of his soul.
This brutal man suddenly grew softer at the sight of the girl; a flashof joy shot from his savage eyes, and his mouth, habituated to curses,opened gladly to utter gentle words. Frequently, when seated on themounted slope, near the cavern, he talked with her for hours, taking aninfinite delight in hearing the melodious sound of that voice whosecharms he had hitherto been ignorant of.
Ellen, hiding her sorrows, feigned a delight which was far from hermind, not to sadden the man she regarded as her father, and who seemedso happy at seeing her by his side. Certainly, if anyone at this momenthad an ascendency over the old pirate's mind, and could bring him backto the right path, it was Ellen. She knew it, and used the power she hadacquired cleverly, to try and convert this man, who had only been aspecies of evil genius to humanity.
One morning, when Red Cedar, almost entirely cured of his wounds, wastaking his accustomed walk, leaning on Ellen's arm, Father Seraphin, whohad been absent for two days, stood before him.
"Ah, it is you, father," the squatter said on seeing him; "I was alarmedat your absence, and am glad to see you back."
"How are you?" the missionary asked.
"I should be quite well if I had entirely recovered my strength, butthat will soon return."
"All the better; for if my absence was long, you were to some extent thecause of it."
"How so?" the squatter asked, curiously.
"You remember you expressed a desire some time back to live in theprairie?"
"I did."
"It appears to me very prudent on your part, and will enable you toescape the pursuit of your enemies."
"Believe me, father," Red Cedar said, gravely, "that I have no desire toescape those I have offended. If my death could recall the crimes ofwhich I have been guilty, I would not hesitate to sacrifice my life topublic justice."
"I am happy, my friend, to find you imbued with these good sentiments;but I believe that God, who in no case desires the death of a sinner,will be more satisfied to see you repair, by an exemplary life, as faras in your power, all the evil you have done."
"I belong to you, father; whatever you advise me will be an order to me,and I will obey it gladly. Since Providence has permitted me to meetyou, I have understood the enormity of my crimes. Alas! I am not aloneresponsible for them: never having had any but evil examples before me,I did not know the difference between good and evil. I believed that allmen were wicked, and only acted as I did because I considered I waslegitimately defending myself."
"Now that your ear is open to the truth, your mind is beginning tounderstand the sublime precepts of the gospel. Your road is readytraced; henceforth you will only have to persevere in the path on whichyou have so freely entered."
"Alas!" the squatter muttered, with a sigh, "I am a creature so unworthyof pardon, that I fear the Almighty will not take pity on me."
"Those words are an insult to Deity," the priest said, severely;"however culpable a sinner may be, he must never despair of the divineclemency; does not the gospel say, there is more joy in heaven over onesinner that repenteth, than over ten just men who have persevered?"
"Forgive me, father."
"Come," the missionary said, changing his tone, "let us return to thematter which brings me to you. I have had built for you, a few leaguesfrom here, in a delicious situation, a jacal, in which you can live,with your daughter."
"How kind you are, father," the squatter said, warmly; "how muchgratitude I owe you."
"Do not speak of that; I shall be sufficiently recompensed if I see youpersevere in your repentance."
"Oh, father, believe that I detest and hold in horror my past life."
"I trust that it may ever be so. This jacal, to which I will take you sosoon as you please, is situated in a position which renders it almostimpossible to discover. I have supplied it with the articles requisitefor your life; you will find there food to last several days, arms andgunpowder to defend you, if attacked by wild beasts, and to go huntingwith; I have added nets, beaver traps--in a word, everything required bya hunter and trapper."
"Oh, how kind you are, father," Ellen said with tears of joy in hereyes.
"Nonsense, say nothing about that," the missionary remarked, gaily; "Ihave only done my duty. As a further security, and to avoid any possibleindiscretion, I have not told the secret of your retreat to any one: thejacal was built by my own hands, without the assistance of a stranger.You can, therefore, feel certain that no one will trouble you in thehermitage."
"And when can I go to it, father?"
"Whenever you please; all is ready."
"Ah, if I did not fear appearing ungrateful, I would say I will go atonce."
"Do you think you are strong enough to undertake a journey of fifteenleagues?"
"I feel extraordinarily strong at this moment, father."
"Come, then; for had you not made the proposition, I intended to doso."
"In that case, father, all is for the best; and you are not vexed to seeme so anxious to leave you, father."
"Not at all, be assured."
While talking thus, the three persons had descended the mountainside,and reached the ravine, where horses were awaiting them, held by anIndian.
"In the desert," the missionary said, "it is almost impossible to dowithout horses, owing to the great distance one has to go; you willtherefore oblige me by keeping these."
"It is too much, father, you really overwhelm me with kindness."
Father Seraphin shook his head.
"Understand me, Red Cedar," he said; "in all I do for you there is farmore calculation than you suppose."
"Oh!" Red Cedar said.
"Calculation in a good action!" Ellen exclaimed, incredulously; "youmust be jesting, father."
"No, my child, I speak seriously, and you will understand; I have triedto regulate your father's l
ife so well, place him so thoroughly in acondition to become a brave and honest hunter, that it will beimpossible for him to find the slightest pretext for returning to hisold errors, and all the fault will attach to him if he does notpersevere in the resolution he has formed of amendment."
"That is true," Red Cedar answered; "well, father, I thank you for thiscalculation, which makes me the happiest of men, and proves to me thatyou have confidence in me."
"Come, come, to horse!"
They started.
Red Cedar inhaled the air deliciously; he felt born again, he was oncemore free. The missionary examined him curiously, analysing the feelingswhich the squatter experienced, and trying to form some opinion of thefuture from what he saw. Red Cedar understood instinctively that he waswatched by his comrade; hence, to deceive him as to his feelings, heburst out into a loud expression of his gratitude, part of which wascertainly true, but which was too noisy not to be exaggerated. Themissionary pretended to be taken in by this device, and talkedpleasantly throughout the ride.
About six hours after leaving the cave, they reached the jacal. It was apretty little hut of interlaced reeds, divided into several rooms, witha corral behind for the horses. Nothing was wanting; hidden in thebottom of a valley, very difficult to approach, it stood on the bank ofa small stream that flowed into the Gila. In a word, the position ofthis wild abode was delightful, and nothing was more easy than to beperfectly happy in it.
When the travellers had dismounted, and led their horses into thiscorral, Father Seraphin went over the jacal with his two _proteges_. Allwas as he had stated; and if there was not much to increase comfort, atany rate everything strictly necessary had been provided. Ellen wasdelighted, and her father pretended, perhaps, to be more so than hereally was. After spending an hour with them Father Seraphin took leaveof the squatter and his daughter.
"Will you leave us, already, father?" Ellen said.
"I must, my child; you know that my time is not my own," he answered, ashe leaped on his horse, which the squatter brought him.
"But I hope," Red Cedar said, "that your absence will not be long, andthat you will remember this jacal, where two persons live who owe theirall to you."
"I wish to leave you at liberty. If I visited you too frequently, youmight see in that a species of inquisition, and that impression wouldannoy you; still I will come, do not doubt it."
"You can never come too often, father," they both said, as they kissedhis hands.
"Farewell, be happy," the missionary said, tenderly; "you know where tofind me, if you have need of consolation or help. Come to me, and Ishall be ever ready to help you to the extent of my ability: littlethough I can do, God, I feel convinced, will bless my efforts.Farewell."
After uttering these words, the missionary set spurs to his horse, andtrotted away.
Red Cedar and his daughter looked after him so long as they could seehim, and when he disappeared in the chaparral, on the other side of thestream, they gave vent to a sigh, and entered the jacal.
"Worthy and holy man!" the squatter muttered, as he fell into a butaca."Oh! I will not crush the hopes he has built on my conversion!"
At this moment Red Cedar was not playing a farce.